To drink or not to drink?
by Dany le fou
Summary: The aftermath of a party leaves Miria in a very awkward, yet very pleasant situation - Now a two-shot, rated for content
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer : I don't own Claymore

**To drink or not to drink?**

The problem with alcohol is always dealing with the aftermath. Any event involving the inhibition-removing beverage will systematically lead to unexpected circumstances ; a single slip will lead even the most reasonable person into a situation they wouldn't be caught dead otherwise.

A spiky mass of hair slowly moved under the bed sheets as its owner's brain made its way back to consciousness. Even then, the mind associated to this brain, usually sharp and quick, was unwilling to follow if the groan of protest that came from parted lips was any indication. Indeed, the blissful fuzziness of sleep was far more appealing than the harsh reality of the real world at the moment.

Celebrating the end of the Organization was pretty justified. However, allowing themselves to get wasted was definitely not a good one. Who had suggested that they party like humans and not filter out alcohol again?

Amidst the jumbled thoughts in Miria's head at the moment, a name echoed painfully. 'Damn you Helen.'

Still, Rubel singing "I'm too sexy for my shirt, too sexy for my shirt…" while standing on a table had been either hilarious or nauseating depending on your point of view. Then again, he had been naked, his hat covering his crotch and lights reflecting off his bald head.

The sobering image was enough to jumpstart Miria's return to reality. Her brain began to process her surroundings again even though her eyes remained closed. She didn't want to open them yet; right now it was like her bed was moving. Not like a boat through a storm though, unlike what most people with a hangover would feel. No, she was gently being pushed up and down, with a slow, peaceful rhythm that was inviting back to sleep.

Miria's awareness came back full blast when she realized that this was not an illusion.

Her bed WAS moving.

More accurately, breathing.

Silver eyes snapped open and Miria cursed inwardly as the brightness of the day assaulted them, accompanied by a pounding headache. Regaining her bearings, she saw that the warm, firm pillow she was still hugging was actually a naked, athletic male chest (which had apparently been used as a scratching post by a rabid cat as it was covered with red welts). She felt the blood leave her face as her eyes traveled up until they found messy brown hair and a distinguishing scar on the man's left temple.

'Oh shit.'

Raki.

Almost scared now, the intrepid Phantom warrior looked around the spartan room, which was quickly identified as one of the warriors' quarters in Staff. Clothes were strewn on the floor though her attention was caught by a strange dent in one of the walls; as if something had been roughly slammed repeatedly into it.

Seeing this dent made her realize her back hurt a bit, and that she was sore all over. She could also feel the sheets clinging to her naked back, and her front pressing against Raki's body, which was equally naked if she was right.

A peek under sheets confirmed that. Yup. They were both naked. A part of her mind slyly noted that her eyes lingered a little longer than necessary too, and a small tinge of pink appeared on her cheeks before she put the sheet down. The stickiness of her thighs, and the mixed scent in the air left no doubt as to what had happened.

That, and the sheets were in such a state they would have to be burnt.

'I… and he… and we…' The enormity of the situation left her uncharacteristically stuttering and unable to form any coherent thought.

'Did the wild thing? Went at it like rabbits? Danced the horizontal tango? Screwed each other's brains out? Got your freak on?' an odd mental voice that sounded eerily like hers supplied. 'Hell yes you did!'

'Clare's going to kill me!'

'Clare's gone back after Priscilla.' that voice in her head reminded.

This was why Raki had been drinking too in reality. While Clare had been glad that her friend was fine (barring the dying parasite in his shoulder), she had made it clear that she did not plan on resuming her travels with him. Her only purpose from now on was killing Priscilla, or die trying, and she refused to force him down that road with her. It had taken a lot of gentle persuasion, but he had finally relented to her wishes, smiled and bid her farewell.

Clare had been happy that he understood and took it so well, and declared she really hoped they'd meet again some day.

If Clare had paid more attention, she would have seen how fake his smile was.

While Miria and the other remaining warriors were partying, Raki had then joined them and proceeded to drown his sorrow the old-fashioned way: by getting completely and utterly drunk. The sheer aura of gloom he radiated had caught Helen's attention, which turned into worry when she and Deneve noted how much the young man was putting away.

The two friends had been about to confront him, and possibly offer some comfort when Miria told them to enjoy themselves and that she would deal with it. Miria knew her friends meant well, but they were not that good at listening to others. Also, they were already fairly intoxicated and this might end up in a mess.

More accurately, the kind of mess she was currently in.

Miria had patiently listened to the man as he talked about the past few years. Meeting Isley and Priscilla (Miria choked on her drink at that one), pushing himself past human limits, traveling. How he was caught by one of the Destroyer's parasites, and only the thought of his promise kept him from being taken over. And how much it hurt that, even though Clare cared for him deeply, she did not care as much as he did for her.

Not that she was cruel or unfeeling, or even selfish, he had just been mistaken on her priorities, and the truth had crushed his self-esteem.

This could have been it, but then he asked Miria about _her_ life. And because of her own slight intoxication, or to humor him, or simply because she needed to talk to someone for once, Miria found herself talking more than she had in years. Memories of her life as a human, Hilda's death, her secret vow to destroy the Organization, the guilt over the casualties in Pieta. Having someone listen to her for once felt good.

They had gone from mere acquaintances to drinking buddies in a matter of minutes.

It only took them two more hours to go to the next level.

More images of their intimate night flooded Miria's mind. The cool leader buried under her long-restrained urges, her inhibitions thrown to the four winds. Panting breaths and hoarse screams, both his and hers. Their fingers, lips and tongues roaming, exploring each other. Her nails clawing at him in the midst of passion, drawing blood. She especially remembered the look of passion in his eyes as he gazed up from between her…

Her thoughts and memories steadily got raunchier, darkening her cheeks to an uncharacteristic red color with each new one. Miria mentally scolded herself as she tried to get her blush under control, with little success.

Nor did she succeed at keeping a shit-eating grin from her face, a grin that also kept growing as her recollection went on.

On a side note, she had been given _extensive_ evidence that Claymores do not risk Awakening from intense sexual pleasure. Scratch that, any pleasure she _might_ get from releasing Yoki from now on would be nothing after this mind-wrecking night. Honestly, if what she had received was a mere fraction of the worship Raki wanted to bestow upon Clare, her friend was - let's face it - an idiot.

A loud banging on the door interrupted her thoughts, and Helen's voice made itself known from the other side.

"Hey Big Sis! Wake up!"

Groaning, Miria decided to go answer before Helen tried to get in. And since she didn't have the time to put on her clothes (which she now remembered had been pretty much ripped off from her body anyway), she did the only thing she could; giving the slumbering Raki an apologetic glance, she removed the upper sheet and draped it around herself.

She nonetheless took a second to enjoy the view. Yep, Clare was an idiot, and she would have to thank her some day.

Schooling herself into her normal serious composure was not easy with that grin threatening to show again, but Miria did her best. She then cracked the door open a bit, enough to see Helen but not enough for her to look into the room. "Keep it down Helen." Miria hissed. "You're going to wake up everybody."

Helen didn't answer immediately, taking in the sight of her leader. Her spiky hair was even messier than usual, she had bags under her eyes, and she looked completely relaxed even though the way she moved indicated some soreness. Her attire was highly strange too, not to mention the few incriminating stains on it. Then the former Number Twenty Two did something that scared Miria shitless : she shot her a smile so devious and evil it would have put Ophelia to shame.

"Oh, don't worry Sis. First everybody's already up, except Rachel that is." Helen then grinned wider. "Also, the warriors who _usually_ sleep in the adjacent rooms decided to go somewhere else last night. _Apparently_ a beast of some kind got lost in the corridors; they said it sounded like a mountain lion. Damn thing kept them up all night with its howling, but they couldn't find it."

Helen practically drank the look of complete mortification on her superior's face and quickly turned away before she lost it.

"Really? I didn't hear anything." Miria replied, attempting to sound casual.

"You must have been really tired then. You were up late after all, looking after the kid and all." Helen continued, mirth in her voice, picturing Miria's face going cherry red.

In reality, Miria's blush-o-meter was now broken.

"Anyway we have a meeting to decide how to reorganize this place. Just thought you'd want to give your input."

"Huh… I'm not sure I'll be able to come… I… am still… huh… very tired. I kinda… drank too much yesterday." Miria stuttered.

"Well than, you should go back to bed and sleep a bit more. We wouldn't want you to overexert yourself after all." Helen had still not turned back to face her, but Miria could hear the repressed laughter in her voice.

"Right… I'll do that… See you later…"

Just as Miria was about to close the door, her friend left her a parting shot. "Oh, by the way," Helen flashed her a thumbs up, "way to go Sis!"

Miria could hear the ensuing cackle mocking her as Helen promptly disappeared down the hallway. "Damn you Helen!" she shouted, pulling at her hair, the action causing the bed sheet to fall on the floor.

A small chuckle coming from the bed, ending with a groan of pain, drew her attention to the other occupant of the room. Turning to Raki, she was treated to the sight of lean muscles rippling as he stretched lazily, a view that she found herself enjoying a little too much.

His eyes fell upon her naked form, and she was surprised that he didn't seem put off despite the fact she was facing him. Instead he was looking at her like one would admire a work of art, his eyes gently tracing every line and curve of her body without paying any attention to the scars that marred her torso.

'Then again, he got a very close look all night. Especially when you nearly crushed his face between your breasts.' the new voice in her head, which she was forced to admit was her recently-awakened libido, was quick to remind her as an unknown form of pride swelled inside her.

Was it because they were already past the awkward stage, or because she secretly enjoyed being looked at that way? Miria didn't know, but she made no move to cover herself, instead simply sitting on the side of the bed.

"So," Miria started, "what do we do now?"

Raki looked confused for a moment, then he smiled. Miria let out a surprised gasp when he pulled her down, the two ending in the position they had been in when Miria woke up.

"You know, I don't feel like thinking right now. I'm still tired, you're still tired, so why don't we do as you said and go back to sleep?"

In spite of herself, Miria made herself comfortable on his chest as he continued. "Who knows? Maybe we'll wake up later only to find out this was just a very pleasant dream. After all, who would have thought the feared Phantom Miria was such a hell cat – OWWW!" Raki's statement was cut by a yelp of pain from Miria's swat on his still-healing chest. The sight of the wounds Miria had inflicted made him grin mischievously. "I rest my case."

Miria huffed in defeat then sighed. "You're insufferable, but right. I'm way too tired to agonize over this so I guess we'll talk later."

Raki hummed drowsily in approval as the unlikely couple slowly lulled back to sleep.

'Note to self : get drunk more often.' was Miria's last thought before unconsciousness claimed her.

---

Rubel was intelligent, sly and cunning. He had spied on the Organization for decades, stalled its research and planted the seeds that had ultimately destroyed it. He had done all this without so much as raising suspicion on himself.

But now he was trapped with no hope of escaping.

Not with several cracked ribs and a possibly fractured pelvis. Even less with one hundred and sixty pounds of dead weight from a very muscular, very amorous and very drunk Claymore currently pinning him down.

Who would have thought that Rachel was the snuggling kind?

He just feared what would happen when she woke up. Would she kill him, or start again? The mere thought nearly made him cry… she had been the _man_ that night.

'Note to self : don't EVER get drunk again.'


	2. Chapter 2

**Author note :** I had not planned a second chapter for this, but inspiration struck. By the way, I know that I am not following the most recent manga continuity. But please keep in mind that I do not whip up a chapter in a mere week. This one for instance was started over a month ago, shortly before chapter 106 was released – I had no idea about the bombshell 107 was going to drop on us. This is called fanfiction for a reason.

**Disclaimer** : I don't own Claymore *gags at chapter 107*

()()()()

If anyone had seen Miria at the moment, they would have thought she was an Abyss Eater. The leader of the Ghosts of Pieta was currently sitting at a table in the empty mess hall of the Organization's Headquarters, stuffing herself in an undignified way that would make even Helen jealous.

Then again considering the _very_ vigorous physical activity she had been engaged in for most of the night this was understandable. Her pleasantly abused anatomy and ravenous stomach kept hammering the point home : it had not been a dream.

After waking up for the second time that day, Miria had found herself in the same situation she had in the morning : naked in bed with Raki, very sore, and embarrassingly satisfied.

Then the smell had hit them. A night's worth of sweat and passionate – if drunken – lovemaking had dried off on them, leaving them, to put it mildly… stinky.

Taking a shower had seemed a good idea.

Taking it together had been debatable, but necessary; neither wanted to wait any longer before cleaning up. And they could wash each other's back, so no harm done, right?

They ended up having sex one more time in the shower. Or was it five?

Hopefully no one would wonder about the damage.

Miria was glad that it was the middle of the afternoon : no one came to eat at this hour which meant no one could see her blush.

Of course she had jinxed herself.

"Well, someone sure is in a good mood today." Deneve commented as she sat next to her leader before raising an eyebrow at Miria's clothes. While seeing her hair out of its spiky ponytail was unusual, seeing Miria wearing one of the Organization's gray uniforms, minus the armor, instead of her favored leather outfit was downright strange.

"Is there something wrong?" Miria asked with her usual 'leader' tone.

"Nope, just wondering why you're wearing those clothes instead of your usual ones."

"Mine were torn. This was all I could find." It was technically the truth : her clothes had been torn off from her body in a matter of seconds at the beginning of this amazing night. Though Deneve didn't seem to buy it.

"You decided to wear one of the Organization's uniforms because of a couple of tears in your outfit? Surely you could fix it up."

'Not unless you can put scraps of fabric back together.' Miria thought as she fought back a grin. 'Still worth it though.'

When Miria failed to answer, Deneve pressed on. "That bad? What happened exactly?"

Since when was Deneve nosy?

Miria was saved from trying to find a believable explanation by a large plate of food being placed in front of her. Turning to her other side, she found herself face to face with Helen's grinning face.

"Thought you'd like some more." Helen gestured to the two empty plates in front of Miria; without prompting, the former Twenty-Two sat down and dug in.

Miria's stomach once more made itself known, much to her embarrassment. In an attempt to forestall any further questions, she too began eating though she tried to keep a normal pace.

"Jeez Big Sis, what got into you? You're eating like a pregnant woman." Helen joked.

Miria nearly choked on her food at the question. Deneve patted her on the back and glared at her old friend. "Helen, there's nothing wrong with being a bit hungry, you of all people should know that."

Miria nodded in agreement. Deneve continued. "Besides, after such a wild night, it's no wonder she'd need to replenish her energy."

This time Helen was the one who patted Miria when she once again nearly choked herself.

"True, that was some party! Heck she even overslept this morning!" Helen laughed. "That's why you're here so late, right Sis?"

Miria carefully composed herself. "That's right," she confirmed, "by the way, why are you here at this hour?" Anything to divert the conversation.

Helen's face turned sour. "We had to lead a search party." she grumbled.

"A search party? For what?"

"Did you hear about the beast that kept us all awake last night?" a scowling Deneve asked.

This time Miria managed to swallow properly. "I did... I didn't hear it though."

"Apparently it came back not so long ago. It decided to wreck the showers." Deneve finished with a glare.

At this, Miria's already shaken train of thought finished derailing. "We only broke one stall!" she blurted out before she could stop herself. "We didn't..." Seeing Deneve's glare morph into an evil grin, the fearless leader could only think one thing. 'Oh shit.'

Behind Miria, Helen cracked her knuckles. "We are going to have a nice _long_ talk Big Sis."

()()()()

Two Claymores were running through the hallways like two bloodhounds as they hunted down their prey.

It had been difficult for all the warriors to sleep because of the sounds of passion coming from a certain room. But for those two, it had been hell. Hearing screams of pure ecstasy echoing through the hallways was bad enough, but the two most Yoki-sensitive hybrids in Staff had been unwillingly receiving some extra information, a faint feeling that only the most sensitive Claymores could detect.

For endless hours, they had sensed Miria's Yoki singing in pure bliss, ending several times in a crescendo of mind-blowing rapture. Like Galatea's subtle manipulation, this Yoki superimposed itself with theirs, conveying the general emotions and sensations Miria was feeling.

Whenever Miria climaxed however, they didn't just sense it, they _felt_ it; images, sounds, scents and touch were felt like they were the ones receiving them.

It had been a very long night.

The morning session had been the icing on the cake.

Renee and Tabitha were officially out for blood - more specifically Raki's.

It was bad enough for Renee that Raki had treated her so casually, something she wasn't used to. He had shattered her usual cold, professional behavior, effortlessly getting under her skin and overall making a fool of her. But now, to add insult to injury, this smug, annoying, handsome, insufferable bastard was invading her _dreams_ too!

It didn't matter that she had had a couple of those dreams _before_ the party.

Raki had to pay. Plain and simple.

For Tabitha, the problem was slightly different.

She had been forced to 'watch' her Captain, a woman whose strength she admired beyond anything, brought down to a moaning, writhing wreck, her brilliant intellect reduced to its most basic instincts. Her unattainable goddess, who should only be worshiped from afar with the befitting devotion and respect, had been defiled by this _man_.

It had nothing to do with her crush on Miria. Really.

Raki had to die. Plain and simple.

As luck would have it, they had run into the young man in the hallways a short while later. At the looks on their faces, the newly-made hybrid who had fearlessly traveled with Priscilla did the first thing that came to mind : running away like Abyss Feeders were on his heels.

Which was what he was still doing now.

To any observer, he looked like a large brown blur chased by two smaller blonde ones.

"Come on ladies! Can't we talk about it?" he pleaded for the tenth time.

"Of course we can!" Tabitha replied with a sweet tone.

"As soon as you stop running." Renee finished.

"I'd be more willing to believe you if you'd just put down your swords!" he shouted back. "What did I do to you anyway?"

"You took Captain Miria's virginity!" This answer nearly caused Raki to trip.

"You gave me wet dreams!" This time he did trip. Luckily he got to his feet before either woman could reach him.

At least whatever Yoki Miria had generated could only be felt half a mile away and by sensor-types; otherwise all the Claymores and Awakened on the Island, plus a certain nun, would have been after him now.

()()()()

Miria really wished she could run right now; this however was difficult with the former Number Fifteen holding her from behind. While Miria was the better swordswoman of the two, there were three problems at the moment. One : she didn't have her sword with her; two : Deneve's unique dual-wielding style meant she had more upper-body strength.

And more importantly, three : the food Helen had given her earlier had been laced with a Yoki-suppressant, leaving her weaker than normal, which proved that this whole thing had been premeditated.

"Don't worry Big Sis," Helen cackled, "this is just the part where you have to give us all the juicy info. Tell us what we want to know and you can go."

"Helen, why are you doing this?"

"Because it's an age-old tradition for the one who got laid to brag. Now we wouldn't want you to break tradition would we?" Helen replied sweetly.

"Deneve, why are _you_ doing this?" Miria then asked the stoic warrior.

"Because you just went to talk to Raki just like we wanted to. But instead you ended screaming your lungs out the whole damn night! Just like we could have been!"."

"What?" Apparently Miria had not been expecting that answer. " Deneve, you have _hormones_?"

"Deneve…" Helen groaned.

"At least I'm honest with it." Deneve shrugged without releasing her captive. "And face it Helen, you're just as mad as I am. Tradition my ass."

"Wait, I didn't intend to..." Miria defended.

"We know!" Helen snapped. "But it doesn't change the outcome!"

"And judging by how loud you were, it must have been something, right?" Deneve teased. "Since we missed on it, we want some compensation. We want _details_." she growled ominously.

Before Miria could defend herself, she was bombarded with questions by Helen. "How big was he? What did he do to you? What did you do to him? How many times? Which positions? Now _SPILL IT_!"

Miria's blush kept rising with every question, and it only got worse since each question brought back some vivid memories. Then Miria got herself under control. "This is none of your business." she said in a stony tone.

"Wrong answer Big Sis. I had hoped it wouldn't come to this, but you leave us no choice. Deneve, hold her still."

"Plan B then?" Deneve asked.

Miria huffed. "What are you going to do? Tickle me into submission?"

Helen grinned evilly before moving to fetch something. "As is the great Phantom Miria could have such a stupid weakness! Unfortunately for you, you gave one away." She moved in front of Miria, brandishing a bottle.

Miria paled. "Alcohol?"

The troublemaker of the Ghosts grinned proudly. "Yup! Considering how vocal it made you last night, I'm sure it will loosen your tongue a bit."

Miria opened her mouth to protest, which proved to be a mistake as Helen took the opportunity to shove the end of the bottle between her lips and dump its contents down her throat. She tried to resist but in the end, she had no choice but to swallow.

"That should do it." Helen announced once the bottle was empty. "You can release her now."

Deneve complied thought she did ask, "Isn't it a bit too much?"

"Please, you saw her last night, she can hold her..."

"HIPS!"

Whatever Helen was going to say was interrupted by a loud hiccup. Both warriors looked at their leader whose cheeks now had a pink tint, and who was swaying unsteadily on her feet.

Now it should be noted that the Yoki suppression achieved through the masking pills is different from the stealth some warriors like the Ghosts can do, as it forcefully shuts down all the Yoki flow instead of just slowing it down. Without this minute amount of Yoki in her body, the Claymore under the drug will have her physical abilities decreased.

As such, while Miria could hold her lichor in normal circumstances, this was not presently the case.

Also, the drug is just that : a drug; and any doctor will tell you, drugs and alcohol do NOT mix.

Miria raised furious brown eyes to the bemused conspirators. "Whatcha'you lookin'at?"

"I can't believe it! She's completely wasted!" Helen exclaimed with a laugh.

"Ya think zat'sh funny Rubber Arms?" Miria slurred. "Tis'ish all yer fault... the sixsh of you... Don' laugh or I'm gonna kick yer asshes!"

The situation was so ridiculous that even Deneve was cracking up now. "In your state? I'd love to see you try."

"Yer' on!" Miria proclaimed as she launched herself at the pair.

For the next ten minutes, any warrior venturing outside the mess could hear various sounds coming from the inside, including but not restricted to : war cries, shouts of pain, bones breaking, bodies hitting the walls, and exclamations such as "This is not supposed to bend this way!" or "This is not where you reattach an arm!". Needless to say everyone stayed clear of the room.

Then there was silence, and a completely unscathed, grinning and still drunk Miria walked out.

Since when did she know drunken boxing anyway?

()()()()

'What is it with me and braided psycho Claymores?'

This was the question currently running through Raki's head as he gazed at the two warriors who had finally cornered him. To think he had survived encounters with Yoma, Awakened Beings, Abyssal Ones, Priscilla, body-snatching parasites and the Organization only to be hunted by a pair of Claymores was ludicrous and would have made him laugh in other circumstances.

It didn't help that Tabitha's braid had fallen from its usual place over her shoulder and was now trailing down her back. This combined with her deceptively sweet smile and the glint of bloodlust in her eyes reminded him eerily of Ophelia... all she needed was pointy ears.

"Come on Raki, we just want to maim and torture you a little."

Riful would have sued Tabitha for copying her tone.

"Don't worry, I'll just cut off your head." the defender of Miria's chastity continued.

"I'll just cut off your _other _head." Renee's line of sight left no doubt what she was talking about. Especially since the young man no longer had two parasites jutting from his back and shoulder.

On the inside, the tanned Claymore was cackling. Finally he was going to pay; for making a fool of her, for getting her nuts, for being a handsome bastard. And the best thing was, this time no one would stop her, no one was going to say...

"Are'ya picking on Rakish?"

If the words hadn't been enough to stop them, Raki's wide-eyed expression would have. Slowly they turned around. The sounds of a passionate Miria had traumatized Tabitha the previous night, but the sight of her idol plastered nearly caused her a heart attack.

"You shouldn't be picking on Rakish. He'sh a great guy, with a big heart and an even bigger dicksh... or ish it the opposite? Too bad Clare'sh too dumb to shee it." Miria stated drunkenly, much to Raki's embarrassment and Tabitha's shock. "Now Taby, why are you sooo mad when he made me sooo happy lasht night?" She actually giggled the last part.

"But Captain, after all he did to you... I saw..."

"Th'wash nuthin' I didn' want. And how didya seesh anythin'?"

Tabitha blushed and lowered her head, unable to look at her Captain in the eyes, unfocused as they were. However, Miria was still sharp enough to catch Renee attempting a discreet retreat. She somehow managed to use her 'captain' voice. "You goin' anywhere Number Sixsh?"

Of course, the effect was lost when she giggled. "Wait, I'm Number Sixsh too... heh heh..."

Renee mumbled something inaudible; Miria made a show of tapping her foot. "Whut didya say?"

"I said, Yoki synchronization." Renee grumbled.

"What?" Raki shouted as he realized what she meant. "You mean you know..."

Renee threw him a withering glare. "We even felt it. ALL TEN TIMES! NOT COUNTING THIS MORNING!" Her eyes were turning gold as she spoke.

Raki had the decency to look mortified. Miria on the other hand simply looked sheepish. "Oopsie."

Finally she broke the heavy silence. "Taby..."

"Captain?"

"You're jealoush!" Miria laughed. "Ye're not mad I had sex with Raki, you're mad I didn't have it with you! Honestly Taby, you gotta stop being soooo pr'tective of me. Get laid already, it did wonders for me." Miria then took a thoughtful pose. "Wait, I know! You can shleep with him!"

"What?" both Tabitha and Raki shouted together.

"Yup! Good way to fix a relationship." Miria nodded in satisfaction.

"Why would I..." Tabitha started.

"Cuz' thatsh an order! I'll even join if yer too shy, and I'll do to you that thing with my tongue that Raki did to me." Miria winked, which reduced Tabitha to a blabbering mess. "Yer' soo cute!"

"Now wait a minute!" Renee protested. No way in hell she was going through _that _again! She'd sooner Awaken!

Miria looked Renee up and down, which made the current Number Six very uneasy, and grinned. "Dun'worry, you can join us too."

This time Raki and Renee were the protesting duo.

"Don't I get a say in this?" Raki offered, which got him a glare from his one-night lover.

"Whatsh? you dun'think itsa good idea? We made them feel bad, so we gotta make it up to them!" she slurred. Before Raki could counter her (flawed) logic, Miria phantomed behind Renee and, to everyone's shock, _groped _her breasts. "Dontcha think Number Six's hot? I mean lookie, her boobs are bigger than mine!"

Renee squeaked in surprise and embarrassment. Raki nearly got a nosebleed at the sight of the former Number Six groping the current one. Tabitha on the other hand looked down at her own chest and sighed dejectedly. It was true : Renee's appearance stood out among Claymores for two reasons : her unusual skin tone and her very well endowed bust. Heck, even Galatea, who prided herself on her looks, would be jealous.

"Zat's not fair, we got the same rank but she's got bigger breasts!" Miria growled and squeezed said endowments. "Geez that pisses me off!"

'What kind of logic is that?' the molested warrior thought.

"OKAY I GET IT!" Raki shouted desperately. "Renee's very hot, now can you please release her?"

Miria complied much to Renee's relief. The tanned warrior let out a long sigh which ended in a startled yelp, jumping away with both hands covering her rear. Behind her, Miria looked at her hands and clenched her fingers a little, like she was squeezing something.

"Pretty good assh too..." she mumbled.

"What has gotten into you anyway?" he sighed.

"You, sheveral times," Miria giggled, "oh and Helen gave me a suppressant and made me drink a full bottle of booze and now everythin's spinnin' and spinnin' and I feel reaallly funny!"

'Damn you Helen!' Raki thought angrily.

She then turned to the silent Tabitha. "Well Taby, whut do you shay? We'll be gentle with you..."

Tabitha looked to be in a dilemma... This was a unique chance to be with her Captain, but she's have to be with the very man who had done the unthinkable... She had no real problem with Raki as a person, but what he had done... Then again, maybe she had overreacted, after all she knew Miria had enjoyed herself... And if she didn't forgive Raki, Miria may be mad at her. Smoke was nearly coming from her ears.

"If it's for you..." she stated hesitantly.

"That's the spirit!" Miria pumped up her fist before tossing the stammering Renee on her shoulder. "Take him my loyal minion!"

"Sorry Raki, Captain's orders." Tabitha said as she did the same to the (very lucky) young man.

Raki sighed in resignation while trying to ignore Renee glaring a hole at the only part of him she could see - which happened to be his ass - or the view of Tabitha's shapely, leather-clad posterior wiggling as she carried him to a fate most men would kill to meet : as the filling of a Number Six sandwich with a Thirty-One topping.

()()()()

"Do I want to know what happened?" Cynthia sighed at the immobilized duo while Yuma took in the devastated room.

"I'd rather not talk about it." Deneve muttered. She would have crossed her arms but she ended up crossing her legs instead. Miria had ripped all her limbs off in her drunken frenzy, though she had been kind enough to reattach them. In the wrong places.

Apparently her regenerative abilities could integrate a leg applied to her shoulder.

"How are we going to treat them?" Yuma asked.

"Well, we will have to cut off Deneve's limbs and reattach them properly." Cynthia shrugged helplessly. "But I have no idea how to deal with Helen."

Yuma considered said warrior. "You know, you look like a giant Pretzel." she giggled.

"Just do something! I have a cramp!" Helen begged. This was understandable with the way her arms and legs had been twisted and tied together behind her back. The worst was that she knew this was going to be her new nickname. As if Rubber Arms wasn't bad enough!

"Healing them is going to take a while." Cynthia sighed, deliberately ignoring the echo of screams reaching her ears. "I guess we're stuck here for a long time."

"At least until tomorrow morning." Yuma said.

A second female voice joined the first one, followed by a third. At this, both conspirators began banging their heads on the floor, mumbling about 'lost chances' and 'should have been them'.

"More like tomorrow afternoon." Cynthia corrected dejectedly.

"Definitely." Yuma agreed.

Simultaneously, all four Claymores shared a thought. 'Lucky bitches.'


End file.
